


Fortunate

by amcw177



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s01e01 Pilot, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 11:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8011363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amcw177/pseuds/amcw177
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being rescued Shiro discovers that his feelings for Keith might be a tick more than friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fortunate

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Lys ap Adin](http://lysapadin.tumblr.com/) and her prompt: _the moment when Shiro looks at Keith after being rescued and realizes oh no, Keith grew up and got hot while he was away._
> 
> Follows the events of episode 1 after Shiro's crash. As a result you will find pieces of the original dialogue in here.
> 
>  
> 
> **Beware:**
> 
>   * I headcanon Keith to be at least 18 at the beginning of the show, but if the idea of Shiro having more than brotherly feelings for Keith makes you feel uncomfortable in any way I strongly recommend not reading any further.
>   * Shiro refers to Pidge as he/him in this since I assume that he doesn't make the connection until the incident on the Galra ship where Pidge mentions her family by name. Again, if your headcanon differs from this I recommend not reading on.
> 

> 
> \---
> 
> Many thanks to [loadthebases](http://loadthebases.tumblr.com/) aka Doomcake and [softshirogane](http://softshirogane.tumblr.com/) for their beta-ing efforts!

Shiro floated in the endless space between sleep and consciousness. It was peaceful there, but a small voice in his head reminded him that it was dangerous to remain in this state for too long. He couldn’t afford to be careless.

He tried to push through the hazy veil that separated him from reality and as soon as he was awake enough to realize that he wasn’t operating at full capacity, the noise was back in his head. _’Voltron’_ , that one word was like the echo in a canyon, bouncing back and forth in his mind. It was important that he tell people; he needed them to believe him. He had to find someone who would _listen_.

He could hear voices, murmuring. Who was that? Scientists? Military? Shiro remembered men in hazmat suits bombarding him with questions after the crash. He’d been strapped to an examination table, thrashing, and screaming about Voltron, before everything had gone dark. However, this place felt different. This bedding was much too soft to be part of a laboratory and once Shiro was able to make out words it turned out that the voices were squabbling about things that had little to do with science.

“-bullshit! I carried him in here. I should be the one to wake him up.”

“You held his shoe. How was that helping?”

“You forget his foot was still _in_ that shoe.”

Silence ensued; it had a reprehensive air about it.

“You want a medal?”

“Why? You got one in this shithole?”

This set off a great commotion; obscenities flew and there was a loud yelp, followed by a _thud_ as something heavy hit the floor. Clothes rustled and several people were panting with the unmistakable effort of a fight. Were those other prisoners fighting?

Shiro groaned in an effort to kickstart his body into movement, which prompted one of the voices to say, “Guys, stop it! He’s waking up.”

The noise of the struggle died down almost immediately and several pairs of feet shuffled closer - too close. Shiro tensed when he felt the breath of another being ghosting over his face. He didn’t even think; his arm shot out and grabbed the intruder by the neck.

“ _Ack!_ Okay, okay, he’s awake!”

When Shiro blinked his eyes open he was looking at a young man, roughly the same age he’d been when he graduated from the Garrison, with dark skin and fearful eyes. He clawed at Shiro’s artificial hand that was wrapped around his throat.

“You can let go now,” the stranger croaked, his voice raspy from the effort of pushing the words past the pressure at his throat. “It’s okay. We come in peace.”

Suddenly, Shiro realized that he was looking at a group of humans.

“Are you… are you real?” Shiro asked cautiously. His dreams of Earth, fueled by his desire to return home, had been so real all this time he didn’t dare think about what he would do if this turned out to be yet another hallucination.

The face of another young man swam into focus. He sat down by Shiro’s side, gently laying his hand on Shiro’s leg. Shiro didn’t even flinch. Something in him responded to the young man’s touch with warmth and familiarity. 

“Yes, we’re real. You’re back, Shiro. Back on Earth,” the young man said. There was something amicable about him, something comforting. The young man had a name, but what was it? What was it… _Damn it_. Shiro hated how his brain was more like a cooking pot right now - and somebody else was stirring.

“‘Ello,” the dark-skinned kid tapped Shiro’s shoulder. “S-still choking here.”

Shiro let go with a start. He scrambled to sit up, trying to get some distance between him and what appeared to be a whole bunch of strangers studying him curiously (minus one, coughing and cursing).

“It’s okay, Shiro. You’re safe.” The young man by Shiro’s side smiled, his hand still lightly resting on Shiro’s leg. The familiar face was framed by messy black hair and he had attentive, blue eyes. There was something about the way he said Shiro’s name that sparked a memory - a small boy, sitting by the side of the road watching ships take off into the great unknown. He leaned his head against the shoulder of a much taller boy.

_’When you fly into space will you bring me back a space rock?’_

_’Sure. What colour?’_

_’They come in different colours?’_

_’I don’t know. But I’ll keep looking until I find one you like. So what’s it gonna be?’_

_’Red. I want a red one.’_

_’Red it is then.’_

“K-Keith?” Shiro couldn’t believe his eyes. That was definitely the boy he’d spent most of his days with before the Garrison; the little kid who kept getting into fights over the exact dates of every deep space mission launched in the last twenty years. Keith, who had once told Shiro that they would get married in space - a proposal Shiro had laughed at kindly back then.

Today was a different story though. Shiro could clearly see traces of the little boy in the young man sitting before him, but time had done wonders to Keith’s- well, to his _everything_. Keith had been a scrawny kid, mostly due to refusing to eat whenever he got dumped at a new foster home. His personality had been no less prickly than his eating habits. When Shiro had first met Keith he’d only just begun to settle in with his new family. Shiro, barely a teenager himself at that point, had felt a strange sense of responsibility. He hadn’t exactly displayed the best parenting skills (apparently popsicles are not a widely-accepted substitute for dinner), but seeing Keith now he seemed to have done alright.

Keith’s smile turned wider. “You remember me?”

“O-of course,” Shiro replied, still reeling from the realization that one of the people he’d thought lost forever was right here with him, alive and well and astoundingly pretty-

Shiro quickly looked away. His mind really had _no business_ coming up with thoughts like that. Those aliens had obviously turned his brain upside-down.

“It’s been a while,” Shiro added, careful not to stare.

Keith nodded. “Six years.”

“Feels longer,” Shiro said quietly. Awkward shuffling followed as everyone tried to avoid the elephant in the room and Shiro became acutely aware of Keith’s hand on his thigh.

“What is this place?” Shiro asked to steer the conversation away from uncomfortable questions he couldn’t answer. Details were beginning to flood his senses; like the dry breeze coming in from the single window above the couch or the small water basin on the desk with a towel thrown haphazardly beside it. It was a simple shack, just one room, with nothing more than a gas cooker for a kitchen. Compared to Shiro’s previous lodgings however, this was a luxury apartment.

“I live here,” Keith shrugged.

Shiro whipped his head around to shoot a disapproving look at Keith.

“What?” Keith said defensively. “It’s got a roof and if you’re careful the dingos won’t even bite when you take a piss at night.”

Shiro’s frown deepened. “What happened to your foster parents? I thought you were doing well? You wanted to enlist at the Galaxy Garrison.”

Keith picked at a thread unfurling from the blanket draped across the couch. “I did. But it didn’t go so well…”

“Got himself booted out of the Garrison,” the dark-skinned boy provided gleefully.

“Keith…” Shiro sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Keith had always been a trouble-maker, but Shiro had hoped that he would grow out of that at some point. Apparently, he hadn’t.

“They said it was your fault the Kerberos mission failed!” Keith barked, throwing his fist down on the couch. “You think I was gonna let that stand?”

Shiro didn’t know what to say. First of all, he was surprised to hear that people were blaming him for the disappearance of the Kerberos mission team, which was really unnecessary considering that Shiro did plenty of blaming all by himself on a daily basis. And then there was the fact that Keith had obviously risked everything to defend him. Shiro was torn between outrage over this foolish attempt to save his reputation and being completely charmed by Keith’s behavior. Fortunately, for everyone, Shiro’s protective instincts kicked in before he could embarrass himself.

He almost reached out to place his hand on top of Keith’s, but thought better of it. Instead he just said, “Keith, I really appreciate what you did, but that wasn’t exactly the smartest thing you’ve ever done.” 

Keith gave a one-shouldered shrug.

“Wasn’t the only thing either,” the dark-skinned kid, whose name Shiro had yet to learn, added. He seemed both disgusted and highly amused.

Shiro slumped back, groaning. “What else is there?”

Keith glared at the other boy. “Don’t you dare say it.”

The boy’s grin was an open challenge, yet he did take a small precautionary step backwards. He pointed at Keith, whispering, “He’s hearing voices too.”

“Am not!” Keith was up in the blink of an eye, pummeling the other kid like a cannon ball. Shiro joined the general hubbub by grabbing a hold of the back of Keith’s belt and dragging him off the other boy.

“He’s a liar,” Keith continued to argue while trying to struggle free. “I’m not crazy!”

“Then why’d you leave to go live in the desert like a- a-,” the boy’s tirade lost its momentum for a second, “-like a _creeper_ , huh?”

“Get out, Lance,” Keith snarled, his chest heaving with barely contained rage. “Get out before I put my boot where your face should be if it weren’t occupied by _your ass_.”

Shiro blinked in awe and confusion. Keith might have been a troubled kid, but it had always been hard to get him to cuss. Many an adventurous kid had tried, but they usually just ended up with a fist to their nose. This _Lance_ character was clearly getting under Keith’s skin like nothing Shiro’d ever seen.

“Maybe you should wait outside for a moment,” Shiro suggested with a small nod towards the door.

Lance, on his part, ignored the hint, but fortunately he had friends who did the thinking for him. They tugged him along as they backed out of the door.

“You’ve always been good at making friends,” Shiro said with a smile once they were alone.

Keith’s hands were still balled into fists. “I don’t even know who he _is_. They just suddenly showed up when I rescued you.”

Shiro hesitated but eventually decided it was okay to put his hand on Keith’s shoulder in order to soothe the rage a little bit. He made sure not to use his artificial arm though. He’d seen the fear in their eyes when he grabbed Lance and he didn’t want to agitate Keith any further.

“Maybe it’s for the better,” Shiro mused. “This seems like the kind of thing that you shouldn’t be doing alone.”

Keith relaxed under Shiro’s palm. He looked up, eyes big and full of admiration.

“I’m not alone anymore,” Keith said with a smile, and _oh_...

\---

Lance was allowed back inside the cabin by majority vote, but only after he promised not to mention imaginary voices or display any sort of competitive behavior, and to generally just sit in the corner.

They filled Shiro in on what he’d missed over the last year and a half. Apparently, the authorities had decided to use Shiro as a scapegoat, which was convenient for them since he wasn’t there to contest any of it. Pidge was the one who’d found out about the drone the Garrison had launched in secret to search for debris on Kerberos. Shiro’s memory was fuzzy on the details, but he wasn’t surprised to hear that the drone had come up empty. When no one was able to explain the disappearance of an entire ship and its crew, the higher-ups simply fabricated a story.

“For what it’s worth,” Pidge said, “I never believed any of it.”

The others nodded affirmatively and Shiro smiled, cheerless but thankful. At least somebody hadn’t given up.

“So what’re you gonna do now?” Hunk asked after a few moments of collective silence.

Shiro didn’t know. His mind was spinning around the same questions over and over again, without providing any helpful answers. What was Voltron and why was it such a threat to an alien race that had the willpower and the technology to take over half the universe? Who could he trust? He was aware that he’d been talking like a crazy person when he arrived (apart from the fact that he crashlanded in an _alien spaceship_ ), but he’d hoped to receive a friendlier welcome; or an open ear, at least. He needed to find this Voltron, maybe then they would believe him. But where to start looking?

More questions Shiro’s mind didn’t have any answers to. Whatever the aliens had done to him, they had downright filleted his mind. It was hard to focus on anything, let alone make any sound decisions.

“I… I don’t know,” Shiro admitted. The four of them looked at him as if he’d just stepped on a puppy. They clearly expected him to have some sort of plan, but, honestly, all Shiro had was a bowl of scrambled eggs for a brain and the very real fear that a horde of aliens was going to wipe out Earth. It was hard to think with the four staring at him.

“I’m sorry guys. Can you… can you give me a moment?” Shiro said and excused himself. He didn’t quite _run_ out the door, but ‘strong and collected’ probably looked different.

\---

Shiro wandered up the hill near Keith’s cabin and drank in the sight. It felt like forever since he’d seen an actual landscape. Flashes of cold metal walls and licks of purple flames rolled past his inner eye like waves and he shuddered despite the warm, dry breeze.

The stump of his right arm tingled; it felt like goosebumps were running up and down his arm, which was impossible, of course. He put his hand on the smooth surface of his prosthetic and started rubbing soothing circles. He didn’t know how it worked but the touch actually registered.

Now there was another thing Shiro couldn’t explain. Although he was pretty sure he didn’t want to. Whenever he tried to unearth some memories of how he got this eerie new gadget, his whole body strained against it with cold sweat and shivers. He stopped after a while and focused on the view like a castaway who was glad that at least some things hadn’t changed.

It wasn’t long before Shiro heard footsteps coming up the hill. He didn’t need to turn around to know who they belonged to.

Keith’s hand was warm and comforting on his shoulder. “It’s good to have you back.”

Shiro smiled. “It’s good to be back.”

While the collective air of expectancy inside the cabin was a bit exhausting Keith’s lone presence was actually quite calming. Keith could be pretty rash sometimes (as evidenced by his dishonorable exit from the Garrison), but right now he was the one single thing that kept Shiro from spinning out of control. Funny how that went; six years ago it was quite different.

Some things were still the same though - like the look in Keith’s eyes before he posed the inevitable question that Shiro had hoped to avoid.

“So, what happened out there?” Keith asked, his gaze flitting over the scar on Shiro’s face. “Where were you?”

If only Shiro had a satisfactory answer to either of those questions.

“I was on an alien ship, but somehow I escaped.” It was about as close to coherent as Shiro could make it. “It’s all a blur.”

For a moment Shiro feared Keith might press on, but he didn’t. He just looked at Shiro like one would look at a broken picture frame. Well, the exterior was definitely broken, that much was for certain. As for the things inside… that remained to be seen.

In the meantime Shiro had a few questions of his own. “How did you know to come save me when I crashed?”

An image of Keith sitting in the desert wrapped in a thick blanket with a pair of binoculars and a thermos came to mind. If that was how Keith had known, Shiro might actually have to smack him.

Keith hesitated. Instead of an answer he beckoned Shiro to follow him back to the shed. “You should come see this.”

\---

The next hour and a half was both enlightening and terrifying - in more ways than one. Shiro realized that Keith had not only thrown away his entire future in order to become a hermit, but he also wandered about the canyon caves by himself on a regular basis, following some sort of mystic energy.

Now, Shiro was on board with the alien energy - he had experienced enough of it to believe it was capable of practically _anything_ \- but he really didn’t like the thought of Keith The Cave Explorer very much.

Shiro didn’t have the heart to reprimand Keith though, since the foreign energy was what had led him to Shiro’s crash site.

“It’s an outcropping of giant boulders with caves covered in these ancient markings,” Keith elaborated as he pointed to various pictures arranged around a map of the area. “Each tells a slightly different story about a blue lion, but they all share clues leading to some event, some arrival happening last night.”

He looked at Shiro like he’d stumbled upon a giant, if unexpected treasure. “Then you showed up.”

Shiro tried to put it all together, but failed miserably. He was obviously just a small piece of the puzzle and he had no idea where he fit in. The others looked just as clueless so Shiro decided to go with what he knew for certain - and that was the fact that these kids had saved him. They had cared enough to put their lives and their futures on the line for him. That took courage (and a good dose of stupidity) and Shiro hadn’t even thanked them yet.

“I should thank you all for getting me out,” he said. He wasn’t sure if his words properly conveyed the extent of his gratitude so he held out his hand. “Lance, right?”

Lance gave him a perplexed look, then glanced at the artificial hand extended to him. He was clearly wary, which Shiro tried not to mind too much. He _had_ almost strangled Lance, after all.

Eventually, Lance shook his hand, nodding. Lance’s companions introduced themselves as well. Pidge was the smallest of the bunch, but Shiro had already noticed that he made up in brains and liveliness what he lacked in body mass. He had a burning interest in the whereabouts of the rest of Shiro’s crew, but Shiro was of no help in this regard. He told Pidge what he remembered, but that was like giving a starving man a handful of crumbs when he’d been hoping for a feast.

The tall and sturdy one was Hunk. He appeared to be Lance’s missing impulse control. As a side-job he was also quite a capable mechanic and engineer. When Shiro mentioned ‘Voltron’ Hunk immediately came up with a way to track its energy signature.

“Hunk, you big, gassy genius!” Lance exclaimed, even though Shiro was pretty sure they had the same level of understanding of Hunk’s exposition, which was _zero_.

“It’s pretty fascinating, really,” Hunk went on, clearly on a roll now. “The wavelength looks like this.”

He unfolded a paper depicting a wobbly graph. It didn’t mean much to Shiro, but it obviously did to Keith for he grabbed it immediately and held it against an image of the canyon. The graph matched the outline of the mountain tops like someone had traced it with a pen.

“Give me an hour,” Hunk said excitedly and continued rummaging around in Pidge’s backpack - much to Pidge’s dismay.

Shiro didn’t want to put a damper on things but it was getting dark. He did not look forward to walking a bunch of tired out cadets through unknown territory in the dead of night.

“All right, all right,” Shiro said. “Let’s not lose our heads. It’s getting dark so I suggest we go out there tomorrow at first light. Any objections?”

Hunk looked dejected, but mumbled something about this probably being a reasonable decision. Pidge seemed to share the sentiment but yielded while Lance merely looked around the cabin in disdain.

“Where are we gonna sleep?” Lance asked, cautiously prodding the couch.

Keith grabbed a cardboard box from underneath the desk and pushed it in Lance’s direction. “Knock yourselves out.”

Lance reluctantly opened the box and pulled out a blanket, holding it with two fingers and making a face like somebody had asked him to roll around in garbage. “Are you kidding me?”

Keith crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Floor not good enough for your royal highness?”

Lance flung the blanket at Keith’s face - with limited success - and launched himself at Keith shortly after.

“Welcome back to Earth,” Pidge said as he pulled another blanket out of the box. He gave Shiro a sympathetic pat and left to make himself a little nest in the corner.

Shiro sighed. This was going to be a long night.

\---

In many ways the desert was too loud at night. The low hum of the Galra engines was missing - a sound Shiro had come to accept like white noise. There was no clickety-clack of the sentries patrolling the corridors like clockwork. Instead, there were crickets, dozens of them; and something flitted through the bushes a few feet away. A dingo howled in the distance, underlined by the buzz of mosquitoes surrounding the lone lamp in Keith’s cabin. Everything was sudden and couldn’t be predicted; everything was _alive_.

Shiro leaned in the doorframe, studying the silhouette of the canyons against the moonlight. He had a hard time making his brain believe that he was really back. Every now and then he ran his human hand over the doorframe to make sure it was indeed made of wood and not the cold, unforgiving steel of a Galra prison cell. A big part of him was still afraid that if he closed his eyes for more than a second all of it would up and disappear, leaving him broken and hopeless in a foreign place.

“Can’t sleep?”

Shiro jumped at the sound of Keith’s voice, even though it was barely more than a whisper. He cursed himself silently when he noticed that he’d involuntarily shifted into a fighting stance.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Shiro asked as he forced himself to relax.

Keith leaned his back against the other side of the door and shook his head. “Couldn’t sleep either.”

Shiro didn’t have the heart to tell him the real reason why he was still up. Keith had given up so much to track him down, to save him from yet another stint as a lab rat; Shiro owed it to Keith to be strong in return. So he kept his mouth shut and savored the comfortable silence that spread between.

Keith had always been easy to be around; he didn’t expect anything from people. Granted, he had always looked up to Shiro, but he never demanded anything in return. Shiro would have had to be blind, dumb, and deaf not to notice the admiration in Keith’s eyes back then.

Today it wasn’t purely admiration anymore. There was something else that Shiro couldn’t quite put his finger on. Whatever it was, it made him feel hot and cold at the same time whenever Keith looked at him. He didn’t dare act on it though for fear of messing up their friendship by misconstruing signals that weren’t even there. Shiro’s social Geiger-counter was a little off due to his extended time in the company of creatures that rarely even _had_ a face to give cues with.

As a result, Shiro sat on his proverbial hands until Keith provided further information.

“I like the hair, by the way,” Keith said quietly, reaching out to ruffle Shiro’s white bangs. It took everything Shiro had not to flinch. The only memory Shiro had of someone reaching for his head was _to tear it off_. But he managed a smile and after a moment of mental adjustments he even enjoyed the light touch.

Shiro tugged at a few strands, smiling weakly. “Not the best hairdressers, these aliens, but in a pinch…”

Keith chuckled low under his breath. It was the most delightful sound Shiro had heard since he’d departed Earth.

“Do you mind if I…,” Keith let the request hang in the air, merely pointing at Shiro’s arm.

Shiro hesitated. Even if he had all his memories in order he wouldn’t find one in which anyone had touched his bionic arm in any other way than to either destroy or improve it.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Shiro said truthfully.

Keith didn’t seem to share his doubts; he smiled. “It’s part of you. How bad can it be?”

Very bad, if you didn’t even know how it got there. But Shiro was too starved for human contact by now to say anything. His heart raced as he shifted so that Keith could have a better look.

Keith’s fingers were light as feathers as they ghosted over the plating, the microscopic links and joints that allowed Shiro’s arm to move naturally. Not all of it was mechanical, Shiro had gotten that much. Some part of this technology wasn’t technology at all. No metal in this universe could detect _touch_ and send his mind into overdrive.

Shiro shuddered when Keith’s fingertips reached the seam where alien technology met human flesh.

Keith immediately pulled back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Shiro reassured him. “It’s just been a while since, uh…”

He didn’t quite know how to finish that sentence without furiously blushing. A few days ago he never would have thought that he would long for Keith’s touch, but here he was trying to will Keith to run his hand over his arm one more time. To Shiro’s dismay, he found that he wouldn’t mind some touching in other places either.

Then again, a few days ago he’d been adrift in space - he hadn’t believed in getting here alive either. This was actually an improvement. Sort of.

“It’s-” Keith paused as if to search for the right word to describe an alien arm attached to his childhood friend. Shiro was ready to face all sorts of descriptions like _weird_ or _scary_ , but what he got was, “It’s extraordinary.”

Shiro glanced at his arm and the way it reflected the moonlight at seemingly odd angles.

“I suppose it is,” he agreed warily. Shiro might not remember much, but these aliens didn’t strike him as the kind of race that would give someone an artificial arm just because it looked cool. But he was ready to admit that it helped. Steering that alien spacecraft through Earth’s atmosphere with one hand would have been challenging.

“I missed you, you know,” Keith said out of the blue as if they’d been sharing their deepest secrets all along.

Shiro’s heart pounded in his chest loud enough to drown out his own thoughts. Maybe that was why he reached out and squeezed Keith’s shoulder.

“I missed you too.”

Keith didn’t look at Shiro, his bangs covering his eyes; but he smiled.

Shiro cleared his throat and adjusted himself before he could get a little too comfortable. “You should try to catch some sleep though. Big day tomorrow.”

Keith seemed to want to argue, but then he merely nodded. He pushed himself off the doorframe and his boots caused the wooden floor panels to creak loudly.

“You coming?” Keith asked.

Sleep sounded wonderful - as did a nice hot pot of tea, and a fully functioning set of memories - but some things were further out of reach than others.

“You go ahead,” Shiro declined politely. “I’ll catch up.”

Keith let out a sigh like an exasperated grandmother faced with an unruly child. He shook his head.

“We’re not going to disappear, you know?” He sounded offended. Keith stepped up to Shiro, eyeing him closely. “We’re not going anywhere. You can relax now.”

Shiro swallowed hard. Keith always had a knack of spotting what Shiro was trying to hide. He stood so close to Shiro, the warmth of his body sent goosebumps up and down Shiro’s arm. The responsible thing - the _sensible_ thing - would be to thank Keith and to send him off to bed, but Shiro’s senses were a bit screwed up right now. He didn’t, _couldn’t_ move; he just breathed heavily in anticipation.

“I’ve got you.” Keith said, firmly grasping Shiro’s hand. He threaded their fingers together and lifted their hands. “See? I’m not letting go.”

Shiro’s brain ran around in circles, screaming rather unhelpfully. He felt like he’d been falling for a long time, anticipating a deadly impact, but finding the landing was softer than he’d thought. He stared at their intertwined fingers, trying to process what this entailed.

Keith didn’t seem to have time for Shiro’s internal struggle to come to a conclusion. He tugged Shiro along, stepping over Lance’s legs and heading for the couch that served as his bed.

“Keith, I don’t think we should-” Shiro began as Keith snuggled under the blanket.

“Shiro,” Keith said, annoyed. “Shut up and lie down.”

He held the blanket up in an invitation for Shiro to join him. There was really not much space on the couch - Shiro could barely fit on there alone. Shiro wasn’t if this much physical contact was going to improve his nerves.

“Keith, I-” He didn’t get any further. Keith yanked him down so he landed awkwardly in Keith’s arms. Shiro made a sound not like _Pfwuh?_ and tried to figure out where his legs were supposed to go now that they’d lost contact with solid ground.

“Can you two be any louder?” Pidge murmured from the corner. “They didn’t quite hear you at the Garrison.”

“Sorry,” Shiro whispered and held his breath for a few seconds, waiting for more grumpy replies. When everything remained quiet he exhaled, yet not quite relaxing. He lay next to Keith like a plank, unsure of what to do with his various extremities.

In the end, Keith made that decision for him; he threw his arm across Shiro’s chest and wiggled closer until he fit against Shiro’s side like he’d always been there. In a way he probably was.

“If you don’t relax and I break my nose on your arm I’m gonna hold you responsible, just so you know,” Keith mumbled into the fabric of Shiro’s shirt.

Laughter bubbled up in Shiro until he couldn’t hold it back anymore. He was being stupid, wasn’t he? He’d spent so much time in fear and trying to retain as much control as he was allowed in a world that considered him little more than a side-project that he’d forgotten how to let loose. Maybe his body was telling him something with that tingling feeling and those sweaty palms; maybe it was okay to accept comfort when it was so freely offered.

Keith craned his neck to look at Shiro. “Are you ok-”

A shoe hit him square in the face.

“ _Ow!_ What the hell?” Keith grabbed the shoe, ready to fling it back to wherever it had come from.

“Can you two lovebirds _please_ shut up now?” Pidge grumbled, sitting upright in a pool of blankets and clothing with his hair sticking to his face on one side. He looked ready to start a fight.

“I second that notion,” Lance added, waving his arm.

Shiro didn’t quite know what to make of the accusation of them being _lovebirds_ , but he doubted arguing would improve the situation. He grabbed Keith by the neck and tugged him back down.

“Sorry, we’ll be quiet now,” Shiro said, smiling when he noticed how Keith slowly melted against his body.

“I sure hope so.” Pidge flopped backwards and disappeared into his pile of miscellaneous items.

After a while it got quiet and Shiro found himself breathing a little easier. He even felt his eyelids getting heavy with sleep and for the first time in what seemed like forever he didn’t fight it. Keith was asleep on top of him, a steady weight anchoring him in this world. He was still clutching Pidge’s shoe.

Shiro smiled and gently removed it from Keith’s grip. He dropped Pidge’s shoe onto the floor as quietly as possible before turning his head to leave a soft kiss in Keith’s tousled hair.

Even if they didn’t find Voltron or if it turned out to be a sham, he’d found something far more interesting tonight - and exploring _that_ was going to be just as mysterious an endeavour as searching for an alien weapon in the middle of the desert.


End file.
